


Snoggletog Sadness

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [13]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 22:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16752328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Newlyweds shouldn't be alone on Snoggletog.





	Snoggletog Sadness

**Snoggletog Sadness**

**-**

Newlyweds shouldn’t be apart on Snoggletog. 

She shouldn’t be sitting with her feet up on the hearth, watching the fire crackle and pop by herself. She shouldn’t be gnawing at a honey stick filched from the celebrations going on in the Great Hall. She shouldn’t be absently running her fingers through the tail of her plait and pining after her husband. But she is.

“We’re pretty pathetic, huh Toothless?”

The Night Fury curled around her chair releases a heavy sigh. Letting her hand fall to her side, Astrid scratches at the dragon’s ears and lets her head fall back. They’ve been flying partners for the past couple of weeks while Hiccup attends to chieftan duties with a neighboring tribe. Snuggling partners, too, since Stormfly’s too big to fit in the house  _or_ the bed. 

“C'mon,” she sighs, handing Toothless the last of the gooey honey stick. He snaps it in half with one quick bite and licks his chops. “I’m tired. Let’s call it a night.”

Their bed creaks when he jumps into it, burying under the covers and stretching out before flopping down with a  _thump._ Astrid shakes her head and undresses. Hiccup thought their marriage well ahead– he’d built their bed with just enough space for the giant Night Fury to fit. She thinks about how he must have known there would be lonely nights as she shrugs into her nightgown. He must have known she’d let the beast sleep next to her in his absence. 

Astrid knees Toothless in the side as she climbs in, muttering for him to scoot over. Despite his grumbled sniff, he twists and draws her close with one wing. She scratches under his chin and fixes a pillow beneath her head. 

He’s asleep before she even finds a comfortable position. Outside the large bay window of their bedroom, she can still see lights from the celebrations flickering. Usually they can manage to lift her spirits, but not tonight. She slips her hands to her stomach and feels the ever-so-slightly distended bump blooming between her hips. Hiccup’s probably reading her letter right about now. She’d written in big, bold letters that he wasn’t allowed to read it until Snoggletog. The only present she’ll get to give him this year. 

But there will be plenty of time for presents, she tells herself with a sigh. Closing her eyes, she begins planning all the holidays to come. Next Snoggletog, she’ll have Hiccup put up the wreaths and line Stormfly’s nest with tinsel. They’ll invite Valka and Gobber and Eret to celebrate Snoggletog morning with them. She should have put bells up on the roof– the wind whistling and jingling usually helps her rest during this time of year. 

Just as her body starts to melt into the furs, just as she finds her dreariness fading into comfort– there’s a violent pounding at the door. 

Astrid sits up, startled, and Toothless immediately flips to his paws and starts snarling. Then he tilts his head with a questioning warble.

It’s probably Ruff. Last she’d seen her, she’d told her she was just sneaking out for some fresh air. Then she’d gone home. Ruffnut’s probably coming to ream her out for leaving the Great Hall early. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” she shouts down the stairs as she grabs her robe and shoves her arms in the sleeves. Drawing it tight about her, she descends to the first floor with Toothless at her heels. The banging doesn’t stop. “For Frigga’s sake, give it a rest! The village better be burning, or I’ll–”

She finds herself choking on her threat when she yanks the door open and sees her husband standing in the falling snow. He’s breathing heavily, bundled up in his fur mantle and leather gloves, and he’s glaring at her. 

“Why am I locked out of my own house?” he accuses, brows knit beneath the rim of his helmet. “Why aren’t you at the Snoggletog celebration? I looked everywhere for you!” Hiccup gestures at the house. “Where are all the decorations?” He gestures  _inside_ the house. “Why isn’t your helmet waiting for goodies from Odin?”

Astrid’s torn between shock at seeing him and bafflement at his interrogation. “I– I left early. The spiced mead was making me sick. What are you  _doing_ here?” It’s a three-day journey by ship, one day by dragon.

“I  _live_  here. And I was expecting to come home to find my Snoggletog-obsessed wife celebrating with the rest of the village, but no wife! I think perhaps she’s in the kitchen making the annual yaknog, but somebody tells me there’s no yaknog! Then I go to my house, expecting to see candles in the windows, wreaths on the shingles, holly on the door, but no decorations! Who  _are_ you and what have you done with my Astrid?”

She just gapes, blinking up at his wind-burned face. Then she lets the door go and slams into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. 

“How are you here?” she whispers into his shoulder. Her fingers knot in his furs, and she inhales deep the smell of smoke and leather that’s so perfectly  _him._

He recovers from the attack quickly, squeezing her tightly to him. He drops a kiss in her hair. She shivers as cold winter air rushes beneath her nightgown and sends gooseflesh prickling her skin. “I opened my present early,” he mumbles into the top of her head. His tone sounds a little guilty. 

“I should’ve known you would,” she replies. “Is it okay that you came? What about the chieftans’ gathering?”

“I’ll fly back in the morning.” Hiccup pulls away just a little. “C'mon, let’s move inside. You don’t need to be out in this snow.”

Heart still fluttering uncontrollably, she allows herself to be shepherded inside the house. Hiccup pauses to give Toothless a brief petting, and then leans to whisper something in the dragon’s ear. The Night Fury gives his rider an excited lick and then turns and scampers up the stairs. 

The chief turns, glancing back at his wife, and the reflection of the hearth’s fire makes his gaze seem even warmer. In two steps, he’s closing the space between them, and then his hand is sliding to the small of her back and pulling her against him. The kiss he steals from her lips is deep, slow, and a little chilly. 

Then he breaks it, eyes flicking down past her stunned expression. His thumbs wander around her waist and slide over her belly. His brows shoot upward when he feels the almost imperceptible swell there. Tugging her nightgown tight against her spine, he traces the little bump and opens his mouth in speechless wonder. Little stammers keep slipping free, but he can’t seem to put a sentence together. Finally, he exhales sharply and shakes his head.

“I knew it wasn’t a joke, but I– I don’t think I believed it until just now.” Hiccup tilts his face back up, pressing another kiss against her lips and covering the swell with his palm. There’s a little more heat to this one, and he laces his fingers into her braid. When they part, he’s looking at her like a man dying of thirst.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she whispers, cheeks warming under his intense gaze. 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. He rests his forehead against hers. “Ever since… Ever since  _Dad_ , Snoggletog hasn’t felt like Snoggletog.” His fingers draw circles around her belly. “You’re supposed to celebrate togetherness, and family, and I’ve never been into it. Dad was, and now he’s gone. But you’re like him–  _you're_ always into it. You’re everything about the holidays incarnate.” Nuzzling her nose distractedly, he inhales deeply and lets his eyes fall shut. “And I was expecting this year to  _suck_ , because you weren’t going to be with me. Dad wasn’t with me. I didn’t have my family. And then I got here, and you were all  _un-_ Snogggletog. But this–”

He holds her by the back of her neck, finally slipping away from her stomach to gather her against his chest. 

“I get a family for Snoggletog,” he laughs breathily. “It’s so cheesy and dumb, but yeah. I had to come home.”

Astrid pushes his bangs away and gives him a little smile. “Can you imagine how excited he’d be?”

There are repressed tears in Hiccup’s snort. “He’d call it a Snoggletog miracle.”

She beams, feeling his mantle tickling her sides. “You’re home,” she tells him. “It  _is_  a Snoggletog miracle.”


End file.
